Farewelling his solicitor, Mr. Darcy steeled himself for his next errand.
***
“Darcy! I had not expected you.”
“Am I not welcome, Aunt Eleanor?”
“You are always welcome, of course; but it is courteous to apprise one’s relatives of an expected visit.” His aunt frowned at him.
“I am here rather unexpectedly, as I am to be married and needed to have the marriage articles prepared.”
His aunt fell back in her chair in astonishment. “Married?! How is it that I do not know about it?”
“You do know about it now, and you are among the first.”
“But – but who? When? How? Where?”
Mr. Darcy’s amusement evidently showed in his face, as his aunt recovered herself quickly and berated him for laughing at her.
“I am not laughing at you, Aunt Eleanor; it is just that I am happy.”
“Happy? To be getting married?”
“You have been in Town too long, Aunt, if that strikes you as surprising! Yes, I am marrying an exemplary young lady who is perfect in every way, and I am here to invite you and uncle to the wedding.”
“The last I knew, you had returned to London after quite rightly deciding not to marry Anne de Bourgh, despite pressure from your mother to do so, and were planning to go off to the country to pursue a young lady you had just met! This is all rather sudden, is it not?”
Mr. Darcy told his aunt the story of his visit to Meryton, leaving nothing out. She was an attentive listener, stopping him to ask questions and encouraging him to provide more detail. Finally, he told her of his success in persuading Elizabeth to agree to the marriage the previous day, and by that time, the Countess was smiling.
“So you have managed to secure the one woman in all of England who made you work for her favour?”
“It would appear so.”
“Dowry? Connections?”
“None whatsoever,” he replied, promptly. “In fact, she has an uncle in trade here in London; you may as well hear that now. But what need has she of a dowry or connections, with so much intelligence and beauty at her command!”
“I look forward to meeting this paragon. When is the wedding to take place?”
“The twenty-fifth of May. Might I hope that you and uncle will attend?”
“Where is this village of hers?”
“In Hertfordshire, not three hours from Town. You would be most welcome to stay at Bingley’s place, Netherfield Park.”
“I will speak with your uncle, but I believe you can count on us. And Darcy…”
“Yes, Aunt?”
“You may think it your duty to invite your mother and sister to your wedding, but I think it would be best to present certain members of the family with afait accompli.”
Mr. Darcy nodded. “That is my intention.”
“Come to dinner tomorrow night, and you can tell your uncle the same story you just told me.”
***
After eating a solitary dinner at Darcy House, Mr. Darcy went into his study and closed the door. He opened his safe, which hung behind a picture of Pemberley that had been painted by Thomas Gainsborough some fifty years earlier. He carried the contents to his desk.
